


Origo

by BrusselsSprout



Series: Variations (S6 speculation stories) [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alistair Fitz - Freeform, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Framework (mentions), Future Fic, Gen, Glasgow mission, Mystery, Non-Graphic Violence, Origin Story, POV Jemma Simmons, POV Leo Fitz, POV Mack, POV Melinda May, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Pregnancy, Suspence, miscarriage (implied)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-06-07 21:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15228384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrusselsSprout/pseuds/BrusselsSprout
Summary: A year after the space rescue, Fitz and Jemma have quit SHIELD. But can they ever fully leave?As they follow the threads of a mystery, it leads them to unexpected places; back to SHIELD and beyond, deep into the past where old secrets lurk.Chapter 5: Deke





	1. Jemma

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a Team SHIELD story, but FitzSimmons-centric.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma and Fitz left SHIELD and have settled into a new life that brings new challenges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:
> 
> \- References to past miscarriage  
> \- Problematic pregnancy

 

The table was set with blue and white plates and tall glasses filled with freshly-squeezed orange juice. There was even a small vase with a few wild flowers in the center. But the sight that made Jemma smile the most was her husband, dressed in jeans and white undershirt as he moved around energetically in the kitchen turning pancakes on the griddle and cutting up strawberries.

The simple domesticity of a morning like this made her well up with tears of joys. Well, the hormones may have had something to do with it too. But still, after the shock of returning from space, struggling with their demons, their nightmares, their loss, there were many painful months when such ordinary pleasures seemed forever out of reach. She remembered the haunted look in Fitz’s eyes and his broken voice when he told her that he decided to check himself into a clinic to make sure he could not hurt anyone anymore. She recalled holding his hand when she went to pick him up after months of therapy, as they cried together finally saying out loud something that apparently was both on their minds for some time: the price was too high – for their sanity, for the sake of the family they were trying to build, it was time to leave behind the only family they had known since they were 16.  It was a jump in the dark; scary but liberating.

Once the decision was made though, everything else started to fall into place strangely easily, as if the universe were trying to tell them that finally they had made the right choice. Jemma got an unexpected call from her old PhD advisor, that landed her in a lab, researching rare diseases affecting children, while Fitz bumped into an old university buddy from Glasgow and found himself within weeks in a new start-up working on renewable energy solutions. It was odd not working together, but it was meant to be temporary; just until they had enough money to set up their own lab together.

This is how they had wound up in a small house in a quaint, green village in the English countryside. The first few weeks were disorienting - the quiet, the horizon, the slow pace - it all felt surreal after years of living on airplanes and underground bunkers, being constantly on the run. But they soon fell into a new rhythm and Fitz’s bright smile as they watched from the patio a hedgehog mother taking her four little hoglets on their first foraging trip confirmed Jemma’s feeling that they had done the right thing.

“Good morning sunshine.” his voice broke her reverie.

She smiled at him. “Oh, Fitz. You shouldn’t have gone into all this trouble.” she said. “but it does look lovely.”

“I have to make sure you’re eating properly.” he said pointedly as he embraced her tightly, not caring about the big, wet spot her moist hair made on his T-shirt. “Can’t make something out of nothing.” Jemma bit her tongue to remind him that the first law of thermodynamics had been broken before - any mention of the past was a sure way to bring to the surface the shadows of the past.

Instead, she swallowed her nausea and sat down at the table. She nibbled on a piece of pancake, foregoing the strawberries. She looked longingly at the steaming cup of tea, but at the same time she knew it was a sure way to end up with her arms wrapped around the toilet bowl. She carefully sipped some orange juice instead, suppressing a yawn.

Fitz’s expression was troubled. “I’m so sorry I won’t make the appointment today, but I couldn’t get away from the live testing.” One of the first big-time orders of a new tidal wave system his company was developing had been recently installed and Fitz needed to be there to make sure everything worked without a hitch.

“Oh, don’t worry about it – it’s just a routine appointment.” she smiled weakly. The truth was that after two miscarriages even routine appointments troubled them. Fitz reached out to her and they held hands silently. It seemed unfair that after everything they had been through, even starting a family was overshadowed by painful loss. But their bodies were out of whack between jumping through portals, travelling through time and space, not to mention Fitz spending time in a frozen coffin for months. Jemma’s rational mind gave her a  thousand reasons for the lost embryos, but her heart was not soothed by any of it.

“Just call me, OK?” Fitz said, his voice tense with worry. “Anytime, if anything happens.”

“Fitz, it will be OK. And my parents can be here in two hours if anything happens.”

“And keep  away from all the bad stuff in the lab.” Fitz said sternly. Jemma knew if it was up to him, he would have kept her in the house for the entire pregnancy to make sure nothing went wrong.

“Of course.” she smiled at him reassuringly as she watched him button his shirt. He grabbed his bag and knelt down next to her chair. “Jemma…I love you. Take care of yourself and of the little bean.” He kissed her lips softly, leisurely then lowered his head and kissed her belly which showed no signs yet of the life growing inside. He rested his head in her lap for a long moment.

“It’s more like a pea-pod now.” Jemma giggled and caressed his curls. “I love you too… Have a good trip.”

“I’ll see you on Thursday.” Fitz said as he stood up with a sigh and headed towards the door.

++++++++++

The obstetrician’s office was filled with pictures of radiant expectant mothers, holding their hands over their perfectly formed bumps and angelic looking smiling babies. Jemma tried to not imagine herself as one of them or to picture the baby she was carrying. She placed her hands on her stomach, still mostly flat, though uncomfortably bloated against the zip of her trousers. She closed her eyes and could almost feel the gentle fluttering against the wall of her stomach – like the wings of a butterfly. She was coming up on the 13-week mark – the time both her other pregnancies ended in blood and heartbreak.

“Ms Fitz-Simmons?” the assistant called her. Jemma bit back the urge to correct her - it didn’t matter here whether she had two PhDs, in this place she was just another patient hoping for a happy outcome -  and entered the office.

Dr Wilson shook her hand. “How are you feeling, Jemma?” she asked.

“Apart from the nausea, it’s mostly good.” Jemma smiled.

“Well, let’s take a look.” Jemma undressed and laid down on the examination table, She closed her eyes as the doctor spread cold gel on her belly. She heard the familiar whir of the ultrasound machine as Dr Wilson tried to locate the baby - then she heard the heartbeat. Jemma sighed in relief and opened her eyes, looking at the sharp contours of the embryo - an oversized head resting on a small body, with limbs like tiny twigs sticking out. Dr Wilson’s looked at the monitor puzzled. Jemma’s heart skipped a beat.

“What’s wrong?” she asked almost in panic. “Is the nuchal translucency reading abnormal?”

The doctor shook her head. “No, the measurements are perfect. I’m just looking at the heart-rate. It’s a little bit faster than I would expect and there seems to be an odd pattern.”

“Do you think it’s a sign of congenital heart failure?” Jemma felt her stomach tying in knots with worry.

“The baby appears completely normal and healthy, Jemma…But if you want to be sure, we can do an amniocentesis next week.” Dr Wilson replied.

Jemma thought for a moment - the procedure itself had its own risks. “I’ll talk to Fitz… eh..my husband about it.” Then her mind started to sift through countless other possibilities until it zeroed in on a different option. What if her child was an inhuman? That would have been rather strange - as far as she knew, neither Fitz, nor herself carried any of the genetic markers. “Do you have the tissue samples from the last fetus?”

“We have run all the relevant genetic tests - they came back normal.” Dr Wilson replied cautiously.

“Dr Wilson, if you still have some samples, I’d like to run some tests on my own.” Jemma insisted.

The doctor looked at her with suspicion. “Jemma, if there is any other health-relevant information I should know about…”

Jemma had no idea how to explain to an outsider, even to a perfectly nice doctor things like time travel, alien viruses or travelling to another planet through an ancient portal. “I told you at the beginning, there are some aspects of our medical history we cannot share because of confidentiality reasons. I’d like to have the samples.”

Dr Wilson just shook her head looking troubled. “It seems highly irregular.”

Jemma realized that what she was asking must have been against hospital regulations, but maybe the good doctor could be persuaded to break some rules. “I assure you, it is only to do some further tests.”

Dr Wilson sighed. “Even if I wanted to - I cannot give them to you - they are already at the downstairs test lab - I would need a reason.”

Jemma realized she had all the information she needed. “I understand.” she said, her voice all fake sing-songy acquiescence.

The doctor nodded with relief. “Jemma, I know that you are worried - but most people who go through multiple miscarriages, eventually end up carrying healthy babies to term. You should try to stay positive, it’s the best thing you can do - also for the sake of your baby.”

“Thank you.” Jemma got dressed. On the way out she slipped into an abandoned nurses’ station and pilfered a lab coat. She followed the signs to the lab of the hospital. Luckily, the badge pinned to  the coat opened the door. It was lunchtime, so the entire lab area was empty except for an old, bored-looking lab assistant, who barely raised his head as she entered. Jemma nodded and marched with confidence to the back of the lab. She looked through the filing cabinet until she found what she was looking for. She opened the envelope labelled  _Fitz-Simmons_. She took the samples inside and hid them in her pocket, while took pictures with her phone of the the written report.

“Hey, can I help you?” The bored lab assistant perked up as she passed by him.

“No, it’s all good.” Jemma waived at him. She hurried out of the lab - transferred the vials from the lab-coat pocket to her handbag. She hid the garment in a laundry basket and quickly headed over to her car. It felt strange carrying a piece of her unborn child in her bag - hoping that the tissue would help her shed some light on the mystery of the child growing inside her. But she was a scientist and she was determined to follow the evidence - wherever it may lead.

  



	2. Fitz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone returns from Fitz's past bearing troubling news. He starts to follow the evidence that leads to an unexpected place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:
> 
> -Death of a non-major character  
> -Implied death of a major character (in line with S5)  
> -References to the Framework  
> -Implied reference to child abuse in the Framework

Fitz walked briskly, shivering slightly in the cool evening North Sea wind as he made his way back to the inn. He had been away for so long that he had forgotten how cold it got even in the summer months on the rugged coast of Scotland. The first day of testing went quite well and Fitz worked until late hoping that maybe he could surprise Jemma by returning home a day early.

The therapy at the clinic had helped to sort through the broken pieces of his life, to put some order and distance between memories he had of a life he never lived and memories he never had of a life he had lost. But he still felt fragmented some days and struggled with anxiety anytime he was separated from Jemma, which happened every once in a while, mostly for short business trips, like this one. He took a deep breath of the salty air trying to calm his mind like he learnt and just focus on breathing. He decided to call Jemma after he got back to the inn, even though she had sent him a message earlier that the appointment went fine and the baby was OK. He wanted to hear her voice, to get a feel how she was really doing.

“Leopold” Fitz froze when he heard the familiar accent from his nightmares. His hand started to shake almost immediately and he curled it into a tight fist before he turned around slowly. He did not really expect anyone to be there, so he forgot to breathe when he saw the dark figure, whom he recognized immediately because he looked uncannily similar to his Framework counterpart, if a bit more disheveled. The father who twisted him into the monster he would carry with him for the rest of his life. Fitz shut his eyes to dismiss the hallucination, but when he opened them again, his father was still standing there. Fitz’s heart was pounding and his mouth tasted [ bitter with adrenaline..

“How did you find me?” Fitz asked between gritted teeth.

“That’s not important. You have to hear me out, son.” Alistair stepped closer and Fitz could smell on him the sour scent of alcohol that always surrounded him in his childhood memories.

“You don’t get to call me that.” Fitz spat full of anger. “And there is nothing you can tell me I would possibly want to hear.” he turned to walk away.

“I’ve heard you got married...” Alistair called after him.

Fitz stopped in his tracks. “That’s none of your business.” he hissed. Somehow the thought that his father knew about Jemma made him uneasy. They had not exactly gone off the grid, but they were certainly keeping a low profile, leaving as little electronic trail as possible. Alistair’s shadow had poisoned so much of his happiness already, Fitz did not want his marriage with Jemma to be tainted by him.

Alistair stared at him with the icy blue eyes that Fitz remembered so vividly from the Framework. The eyes that glimmered with derision at every misstep, turned cold with disapproval at the slightest display of emotion, that shone with unspoken menace right before the sharp lick of his belt. Those eyes that tormented Fitz until they became the Doctor’s eyes - his own eyes. A one-way mirror to the soul that was dead inside.  “Leopold, the baby… there are things you don’t understand and you all could be in danger…”

Fitz felt his stomach flip at the mention of the baby. It took all his willpower not to let the panic that was washing over him show on his face. “What are you talking about…?” he stuttered.

“Listen, Brand Biologics - they were…” Alistair said on a low voice as he stepped closer. He did not get to finish the sentence. Fitz never heard the shot - the rifle had obviously a powerful silencer - he just saw the bullet penetrate Alistair’s skull right before he collapsed to the ground. Fitz stared at his body, feeling like he had lived this moment before. Except this time he did not feel the pain or the blind rage - he felt… nothing.

He looked around, but the street was completely deserted - the shooter clearly did not want Fitz dead, otherwise he would have been lying on the pavement next to his father’s corpse. He debated for a moment whether to call the police, but he was not sure how the flimsy background Daisy had cobbled together for them in a hurry to cover the years of clandestine spy work would stand up to a serious inquiry. Instead, he carefully searched Alistair’s pockets, mindful of not leaving any fingerprints. He found some cash, a driver’s licence, a packet of cigarettes and a key that looked like it belonged to a locker at train-station or at a sports club. He kept the key, shot one last glance at the man whose love and approval he craved for so long, but in this final moment realized meant nothing to him and walked away.

When he got back to the inn he made his way to his room and locked the door. He took out his phone. His first instinct was to call Jemma, but what would he say? That the dark shadow of his past that he thought he had left behind came back to haunt them? Should he relay her the troubling message about the baby? No, he decided, Jemma would be sick with worry and for the moment there was too little concrete to go on. He stared at the fuzzy ultrasound picture of their child growing inside Jemma. If he wanted to protect them, he had to find out more - if there was any truth to what Alistair was saying.

He took out the key from his pocket and examined it again. There was no engraving or any clues that could help him identify the location of the locker. The only other information to go by was the name of the company Alistair mentioned before he died. Brand Laboratories. Fitz opened his laptop and searched for the name on the internet but he could not find anything that looked remotely interesting.

He hesitated for a moment and opened the access portal to the SHIELD database. He knew all the loopholes of the system and could hack his way around it easily - unless Daisy updated the security measures in the meantime, in which case he had a long night ahead of him with a high chance of being caught. While he was pondering his options - his fingers acting on autopilot entered his SHIELD ID number into the access window. To his complete astonishment it still worked. Even though they had left SHIELD, apparently Mack never withdrew their credentials. Fitz knew his friend to be too meticulous for this to be a simple oversight - and a lump formed in his throat as he realized what it meant: even though they had left, this was a sign that their SHIELD family would always have their backs and had not given up hope that he and Jemma would return some day.

Fitz searched the files for any reference for Brand Laboratories. He scoured the few documents he found trying to get a picture taking notes, copying documents. It apparently emerged as a daughter company of Brand Corporation in the 1970s - an independent contractor meddling in all kinds of government projects fashionable those days -  cutting edge weapon design, supersoldiers, dubious technologies sold to the highest bidder. It was not clear from the records what Brand Laboratories was exactly working on. Even though it seemed that SHIELD was loosely trying to keep an eye on them, their premises were nearly impenetrable, so the documents contained mostly rumours and speculations of genetic modifications.

He clicked on the last record from 1987. It was a heavily redacted file - Fitz scanned the document:.

 

_Report of 4/6/1987 Glasgow, UK_

_Case number: D/4352/367/S/87_

 

_[redacted] breached the premises as directed. As in previous cases [redacted]._

 

_Other than [redacted] all evidence of the activity was destroyed. We found [redacted] in critical condition, they did not respond to our questions._

 

_[Redacted] were missing, but [redacted]._

 

_All [redacted] had been destroyed - [redacted]._

 

_Scientific personnel [redacted] but we recommend continued surveillance of non-core staff members:_

_[redacted]_

_[redacted]_

_[redacted]_

 

_Based on our findings [redacted] we can infer that Project [redacted] has been shut down and no traces of [redacted] remains._

 

_Signed_

_Agent Phillip J. Coulson_

 

Fitz looked at the familiar signature, his heart skipping a beat. Coulson. He still could not believe that Coulson was gone. It was the biggest shock among all the bad news he had to process when the team rescued him from Enoch’s ship. He remembered staring for hours at the commemorative plaque on the Zephyr trying to accept that he had lost the only father figure he ever had, the only one that ever mattered. With the memory, the guilt returned too - for all the reassurances from the team could not wash away the feeling that he was responsible for setting into motion the cascade of events that led to Coulson’s death: the Framework, the LMDs, AIDA. 

He read the report again trying to guess the missing parts. Could it be a coincidence that Coulson was in Glasgow the same year he was born, investigating the company that were the last words his sorry excuse of a birth father uttered before he died? What if it was all connected? What if it was not just a coincidence SHIELD decided to recruit him when he was barely 16? What if there was more to his life story? 

He almost jumped when his phone rang.

“I - I hope I didn’t wake you up…” Jemma murmured. Fitz could picture her perfectly in his mind, probably clad in her simple, gray cotton pajamas, curled up on the bed, her hair painted golden by the soft halo of the bedside lamp.

Fitz took a deep breath trying to sound casual. “No, not at all. I just got back to the hotel. Did something happen, Jemma?”

“No, everything is fine. I just wanted to hear how today went.”

Fitz pushed away his guilt - that he was not telling her the truth, but he needed a little time until he had some answers, not just troublesome questions. He kept his voice neutral. “It was fine - no major disasters…and you?”

“Nothing more than I already sent you in the message. Everything looks good. Did you get the picture I sent you?” she asked.

Fitz was wondering for a moment what was the appropriate reaction to the blurry ultrasound picture of what looked like some sort of bizarre alien. “Yes - the bean has already a good sized head...“

“Peapod, Fitz...” Jemma giggled. 

“Regardless…it is a sure sign that...” he continued rambling but she interrupted him.

“I miss you…” Jemma’s voice sounded almost breathless. Fitz felt an intense desire to be near her, to bury himself in her soft embrace and forget about the terrible day he was having.

“I miss you too, Jemma.” he murmured quietly.

“I…it’s a bit lonely here without you...” she sighed.

It was the perfect opening to get Jemma somewhere safe, he realized, without having to give a reason. “Jemma, why don’t you stay with your parents until I come back? Your mum always complains that you don’t see her enough…”

“Fitz, I’m fine…” she sounded defensive. Jemma in her fierce independence had always had a hard time asking for or accepting help.

“...and I wouldn’t worry so much about you and the little one.” Fitz added hoping that if she did not do it for herself, she would do it for him.

“What’s going on? Why are you worried?” She was not letting him off easy. They knew each other too well.

“You know, nothing in particular, I try not to be - but after all that happened…” he made a vague reference to their past traumas, with the distinct feeling that he was playing dirty. Still, it had to be done, she needed to be safe.

“Your anxiety attacks are back?” she sounded worried. Shit, it was not his intention to get her anxious.

“No, nothing like that. But I’d be more focused if I knew you were safe.” Fitz tried to reassure her. “I’ll go there directly when I’m finished here and we can spend the weekend with your parents, if you want.” he added as a self-imposed penance for the omissions and half-truths he had told her. He was always reluctant to visit - not because he had a problem with her parents; Mr and Mrs Simmons were perfectly fine people, but Fitz always felt intimidated by their immense mansion located inside what felt like a huge parc. He had been vaguely aware that Jemma came from a wealthy family, but while they were in SHIELD, it never mattered. The reality of it did not hit him until they drove up the long driveway, framed by magnificent chestnut trees to be greeted by a house-maid. He felt like an outsider, like in that house there was a distance between them, when after all they had been through, he craved closeness.

“OK. I’ll go then.” Jemma replied, clearly cheerful at the thought of Fitz volunteering to spend more time with her family.

“Thank you. I love you Jemma.”  he sighed.

“I love you too.” Jemma replied.

“Take care and let me know you when you got there.”

“OK.”

Fitz hang up the phone and returned his attention to the files and scribbled notes in front of him. He hated the idea of disturbing his mother with painful memories from the past, but he needed to know if she had answers. He dialled her number hoping that she wouldn’t be asleep yet. She picked up on the first ring, always so eager to talk to him. Fitz felt a pang of guilt for everything she had been through on his account - all the uncertainty, worry, long months of silence. Fitz reassured her that there was nothing wrong. Then he carefully broached the subject.

“Mum, did father work for Brand Laboratories before I was born?” he asked.

“No, he worked for a security contractor.” His mother sounded unsure. Alistair’s work was always a bit of a fuzzy detail of the past. Fitz shuddered at the thought that he may have been connected to HYDRA even in the real world.

“And you’ve never heard him mention it?” he pressed on gently.

“What was it? Brand Laboratories? It rings a bell…” she pondered aloud. “Wasn’t it written on the box of vitamins he brought for me, when I was pregnant? I’m not sure, Leo. It was such a long time ago…” she said apologetically.

“It’s ok, mum. Don’t worry.” Fitz reassured her.

“Is something wrong? Why are you asking?”

“No, nothing wrong, mum. Just came up through someone I met who knew father.” he lied. For a moment he thought about telling her that the man who tortured her all those years and abandoned them was gone for good - but he would have had to tell her the whole story.

“OK. Be safe, Leo. When are you and Jemma going to visit?” she asked hopefully. She was delighted that they were together and never missed an occasion to remind him that marrying Jemma was the smartest thing he had ever done.

“We’ll try to come in a couple of weeks. Love you, mum.” Fitz promised.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Well, that was a dead-end, he thought. There was one other person who he knew might have some answers, but she had dropped off from the face of the Earth. Fitz decided it was time to find her. He started checking electronic transfers, satellite images, travel records, but she knew how to avoid being found when she wanted to. Still, after a few hours of wild goose chase, he finally hit the jackpot in the form of a late return slip from a local library in a remote coastal town in Canada.

“There you are, Agent May.” Fitz muttered, as he jotted down the address.


	3. SHIELD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at life back at SHIELD, as they are tracking the mysterious deaths of scientists connected to Cybertek.

 

**Mack**

 

His footsteps echoed in the empty hallways as he entered the Command Center of the Lighthouse. Mack sighed heavily as he sat down in the chair. He had so many chances to leave, but something always kept him back, until he ended up the last one holding the baby, so to speak. Exactly what SHIELD was supposed to be about anymore? He had no idea. Which was rather inconvenient, considering he somehow ended up being the Director of it.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He had planned to get out finally of this flying circus, to take Elena and find a different life; one without killer robots, blue aliens, time travel or a computer game that can swallow you whole, chew you up and spit you out a different person. But he always stayed. There were people to protect, debts to pay and things to fix.

He had thought, surely after they saved the world it would be someone else’s turn. But the truth was, with Coulson gone, he felt responsible for the fate the team, and Fitz’s death haunted him - he knew he would have no rest until they rescued him. Then he had thought once they found Fitz, they could all finally call it quits, with everyone going their merry ways - mission accomplished. But of course things were never quite so simple. There was always a new mystery or a strange object. There was always One Last Thing to be taken care of - the end of the line was just an optical illusion.

“Looks like we are not the first visitors here.” Daisy’s voice came through the intercom, interrupting his gloomy thoughts. “And these other guys are not partial to cleaning up.”

Mack could see the knocked over furniture, clothes, books and decoration thrown all over the floor through the video feed. “It’s unlikely that we’ll find anything useful here.” he grumbled.

“Might as well check, since we came all this way.” Elena said. “I’ll take the basement.”

“Be careful, guys, it could be a trap.” Mack warned. He had a bad feeling in his stomach. Of course, as Elena liked to point out, he always seemed to be uneasy whenever she was out in the field. As her boyfriend _(lover?, partner? He knew, of course, it was time to take the next step, but the fact that they were tied to SHIELD for now made it seem like the time was not right_ ), he only ever wanted to protect her, but as Director of SHIELD, he did not have the luxury to keep one of his strongest agents benched. It was a schizophrenic feeling. Not for the first time Mack wished he had asked Coulson how one could balance duty and family, even though he had the feeling that he already knew the uncomfortable truth: you can’t.

“ _Tranquilo_ , big man.” came Elena’s mocking reply. “It’s not our first outing” Daisy added. Mack sighed - trying to give orders to the two of them felt on most days like herding a pair of feisty cats.

“I found the body upstairs.” Daisy said leaning over the dead scientist, who was lying in a pool of blood. “His throat was cut.”

“Get out of there - law enforcement could arrive any minute.” Mack warned them.

“I think I’ve got something down here.” said Yo-Yo pointing to a closed door in the cellar. Mack watched intently the blurry video feed. She pushed the handle and slowly opened the door. It looked like a home lab - with beakers, flasks, test tubes neatly lined up on a shelf.

“Looks like the earlier visitors did not bother to look down here.” Elena entered the room.

“Well…looks like we finally hit the jackp...” Mack started, but the sentence died on his tongue when he noticed the device in the corner. “Elena, Daisy get out right now -  the place is rigged to blow.”

“No worries, I’m already outside.” Daisy reported.

“Hold on, I can do this.” Elena said and Mack saw her feed get all grainy - she was using her speed.

“There is no time, Elena, go now.” Mack yelled with desperation. She snapped back to the door and started to run up the stairs. There was a bright flash and the feed went dark.

“Guys?” Mack asked. There was only silence. “Anyone copy?” he asked with cold panic settling in his stomach.

“We’re here, Mack. She’s been knocked out, but she’s OK.” Daisy confirmed. Mack sighed in relief. That was a close call again.

“Head back right now.” he ordered.

“Copy that, Director.” Daisy replied. “Davis, help me get her on the Quinjet.”

  


**Elena**

 

“Which part of get out of there don’t you understand?” Mack’s pupils grew dark with anger.

Elena sighed - here it was again; the same old argument. Mack was accusing her of being reckless when she was just doing her job. Sure, he was Director, but she was the field agent who had to make split-second decisions and she trusted her gut. But Mack could not - not when it came to her. He did not seem to understand how weak it made her feel. She met his furious gaze defiantly and retorted “I’m here and at least we did not come back empty-handed this time.” she opened her palms - revealing a small test tube with a tiny amount of some kind of liquid in it.

As Mack took the tube from her, she watched with longing his warm palm touching the cold metal of her robot arms. As much as those arms had become part of who she was, she desperately missed the simple gesture of holding hands, skin touching skin. She tried to tell herself every day that it did not matter, but she could not help wondering if some part of him could not accept the change, if that’s why he was holding back.

“Well, the risk was not worth it.” Mack said pointedly..

“Mack, we have been chasing dead scientists for weeks and we had no idea why. At least we may have a lead now why they are being killed.” SHIELD has been tracking a ghost who was killing scientist connected to Cybertek. It seemed like a clean-up operation, which was strange, since Cybertek had been gone for years. Why would someone go into all this trouble to bury something now that had been hidden for years? Still, it was unclear at this point what the mysterious killer was after or if it had anything to do with SHIELD or HYDRA.  

“Or one of my best agents was put at risk for nothing.” Mack grumbled.

“Well, we won’t know.. Unless..” Elena shrugged trying to shake off his anger.

“Why don’t you run analysis, Elena. Piper can help.” Mack replied coldly. He had been giving Elena more responsibilities in the lab, even though he knew she resented the tedious work. She suspected that it was another way of locking her into a cage.

“Oh, not me again.” she protested.

Mack pursed his lips. “We all have to do things we don’t want to. It is what it is, for now.”

“You realize that one of these days you’ll have to make up your mind what you want it to be.” Elena said pointedly and and she realized she was not just was talking about SHIELD, but also their relationship. She marched off with the test tube.  

 

**Daisy**

 

After Elena left, Daisy turned to Mack and raised her eyebrows silently.

“Oh, shut up.” Mack growled.

She shrugged. “You’re the boss, but YoYo does have a point. Don’t you think it’s time to get some people to run a proper lab?”

“We can run our own forensics, Tremors, it’s not exactly rocket science.” As soon as he said the words, they both fell silent. The departure of FitzSimmons left a gaping hole not only in SHIELD, but in their hearts too. Their ghosts lingered on, filling the halls and lab with memories, both bitter and sweet. Daisy still was not sure how she felt about it. At first she thought it was the right thing for everyone. As much as they tried, things were never the same afterwards between them. Not having to navigate the painful memories, unresolved hurt, anger and resentment was a relief. Still, as the months went by, she caught her anger fading and just simply missing them more.

“Can’t exactly advertise on Craigslist “ _secret and illegal spy organization looking for genius scientists_.” Mack said sarcastically. Daisy just rolled her eyes.

“You do realize Craigslist is not a thing anymore, it hasn’t been for a good twenty years.” She stepped closer to him. “But there are ways to find people - if you want to.”

Mack shook his head. “No, not yet.”

“You still hope they will come back.” Daisy noted matter-of-factly. Mack had been hesitant to recruit any new people - it felt like they were all standing still, waiting for something to happen; perhaps a cataclysmic event that would force their hand. “After everything we’ve been through, you can’t blame them for wanting some quiet.”

“I don’t _blame_ them.” Mack said heavily.

“I miss them too.” Daisy admitted quietly. After a moment of silence she added, “So you may be interested to know that Fitz was in the system last night.”

Mack looked at her surprised, but maybe also a bit hopeful. “Looking for what?”

“Not really sure, he covered his tracks well. But I know he did access this file.” She put the tablet in front of Mack with the heavily redacted document.

He squinted as he skimmed through the page. “An old field-op of Coulson with what looks like dead scientists and destroyed evidence? Is this related to Cybertek?”

“As far as I can tell, the mission was about a company called Brand Laboratories, but there is very little in the database. Cutting-edge technologies, with military and government contracts. Fell off the face of the Earth about 30 years ago. But I could not find any connection with Cybertek or Hydra.” Daisy shrugged.

“Still, it’s a strange coincidence. Why would Fitz go digging for a shady company from 30 years ago? What if they feel unsafe? Maybe they are targeted, too?” Mack seemed alarmed.

“That’s a stretch, don’t you think?” Maybe Elena was right - Mack was becoming overcautious, seeing ghosts everywhere.

“Come on, when was the last time that a coincidence was just a coincidence, Daisy?” he looked at her. “If I learnt one thing at SHIELD is that everything is a damned conspiracy. See if you can dig up some more on this dead scientist.”

“I’ll get right on it.” Daisy gathered her things and turned to go.

“And see if you can find more on what FitzSimmons are up to.” Mack added.

Daisy was taken aback. “You want me to spy on them? Why don’t you just call them if you…”

“They know where to find us, but chose not to make contact. We have to respect that. I just want to make sure they stay out of trouble.” Mack said. Fitz’s death changed him somehow - he became even more obsessed with trying to protect everyone.

“You are the boss…” Daisy shrugged and headed over to the lab where Elena and Piper were working on the mystery fluid.

“You know Mack is driving me _loca_ treating me like a child.” Elena grumbled as she saw her.

Daisy had no desire to get into the middle of this particular disagreement between her friends. “He’s still trying to find his way. Give him time, it’s not easy…He needs our support to find his confidence.” Daisy said pointedly and Elena looked away somewhat guiltily. Daisy knew up, close and personal what a burden leadership was and how hard it was to feel second-guessed. She never forgot that Mack supported her no matter what and she was determined to do the same. It was a strange role; not to be the rebel.

Piper interjected. “Elena is right though. We shouldn’t be dealing with all this sciency stuff.”

“Did you find anything interesting?” Daisy asked.

“No, the analysis is still running.”

Daisy nodded and opened her computer. Her email popped up and she smiled as she saw the newest picture from Deke, of a kitschy sunset with pink clouds and a gently rolling sea. Before he left to see the world, she gave him a passport (a really excellent fake, her work was flawless) and a stuffed lemon. It had become their private joke. He laughed heartily and asked if she wanted to go with him. Daisy surprised herself by actually being tempted for a minute. Deke was a dumbass, but a sweet and entertaining one. Still, she was tied to SHIELD by invisible threads of loyalty, friendship and legacy. When she declined with a wistful smile, Deke shrugged, put on his backpack and walked out of the Lighthouse with an excited glimmer in his eyes. But every day, he sent her a picture of the stuffed lemon - always somewhere new and exciting. Deke had an eye for everyday magic - cornfields against the backdrop of infinite sky, a double rainbow, a child’s exalted face as they devoured ice cream, a shower of blossoms falling off of a tree - it reminded her that the world behind the walls of the Lighthouse was real and full of wonder, that it was something worth fighting for.

She clicked away the message and started searching for FitzSimmons. Finding their address and workplaces was a piece of cake. It seemed pretty peaceful - medical research and renewable energy - fairly harmless. Daisy kept digging, pushing away the feeling that it was creepy to go into their search histories and other electronic trails, revealing a magically mundane domesticity. Something she knew Jemma had dreamt about back in the days when they still shared their dreams with each other.

A loud beep announced that the analysis of the sample has been completed. Elena looked at the screen. “It’s amniotic fluid, apparently.” she frowned.

Daisy closed her eyes, mentally running through the information she read about the scientist whose main area of research was advanced weapons. Then somewhere in the back of her brain she started to see the contours of a pattern emerging. A detail, a hidden connection. Coulson always told her that it was a special gift - to be able to look at seemingly random data and see a story. She zeroed in on Simmons’ recent medical appointment with a doctor. She went back to check the doctor’s credentials - sure enough, it was an obstetrician. Daisy looked at the photo of the smiling doctor trying to organize the thoughts in her head.

Fact no. 1: A scientist was killed.

Fact no. 2: He was working with amniotic fluid.

Fact no. 3: Fitz was digging for information on an old biotechnology firm

Fact no. 4: Jemma was pregnant.

This last piece of information made her stomach squeeze in a strange way. Once it was unimaginable that they would arrive to such a milestone without sharing it with her, she thought with sadness. It seemed to be the final, irrefutable proof that Fitz and Simmons have truly moved on. It also meant that they could be in mortal danger.


	4. May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May gets an unexpected visitor, sending her on a trip down memory lane. We learn about the Glasgow mission of the Haig fame and Fitz gets a much needed message.
> 
>  
> 
> Trigger warning: In this chapter Coulson has passed away, so the Philinda content is all flash-backs. 
> 
> Some references to medical procedures, implied illegal tests, not too graphic description of the aftermath of an explosion.

Her movements were fluid as she tried to empty her mind of everything. The crisp morning wind tore into her hair but she didn’t mind - it reminded her of the ice rink, the exhilaration she felt swirling and spinning around smoothly to the sound of the blades of her skates scraping the ice, carving the intricate patterns of her dance on the pristine surface. The turns and hoops her life have taken created a different dance; full of infinite sorrow peppered with elusive moments of happiness.

She imagined letting the cold breeze blow her pain into the wind until she was nothing but the movement itself. It was the second time she grieved for him; she had learnt how to push through the anguish. Phil always loved watching her do tai-chi - a wistful smile on his face - he used to say it was like an exquisite dance, he got her zen just through watching.

After her training, May headed back to the little cabin where she had lived alone for over a year. It was one of the many things Coulson passed down to her in his will. She moved here after he finally slipped away, with a tender smile on his lips, whispering to her that the last few weeks of their lives was everything he ever wanted.

Initially, May thought that she would go back to SHIELD once she was ready; once she had perfect control over the darkness that engulfed her once again. But the truth was that when she buried Coulson, it felt like all the fight went out of her. Maybe a clean break with the past was what she truly needed.

She stopped short when she saw a lonely figure sitting hunched over on her doorstep.Nobody can run away from the past, she thought. Still, she felt an overwhelming and confusing mix of emotions to see him. In her mind he was all of it: the awkward and skittish boy who looked so out of place on the field, determined never to get his hands dirty, yet tearfully killing to save her, the shadow of his former self as he wandered aimlessly around the Playground trying to catch the words and ideas that perpetually seemed to slip out of his reach. She watched him grow and change, to lose the innocence and idealism, to harden and become a man, who would eventually sell his soul to save them. She remembered him as the little shithead he was in the Framework; tunnel-visioned, cruel and ruthless. And of course she would never forget the nightmarish moment as she watched in motionless horror the light slipping out of him, his confused eyes begging her for an answer she didn’t have..

She knew that the team saved Fitz - but seeing him very much alive, his familiar blue eyes looking at her with uncertainty made it somehow real. It’s not that she was not glad, but she could never talk to Fitz like she could with Jemma or Daisy. They were connected in complicated ways, through betrayals and shared sins of that other life which was unreal. Phil would have embraced him warmly, but all May could manage was a thin smile as she motioned him silently to follow her into the cottage.

He stepped in awkwardly, running his finger over the smiling picture of her and Phil sipping Mai Tais in the Tahitian sunset, smiling like they didn’t have a care. On that day they didn’t.

“I’m so sorry May.” His voice was low and hoarse and he looked at his shoes as if the worn sneakers could reveal the truths of the universe, or at least something more to say.

She nodded. “Would you like some tea?” she asked trying to steer the conversation to a safer ground. She wasn’t ready to hear his pain, her own was overflowing her as it was.

He sighed in relief. “That would be great. Thank you.”

He followed her to the kitchen where she made two steaming mugs of tea - green for her, black for him. Like sometimes on the Bus, when their paths crossed in the small kitchenette at dawn - Fitz grabbing a cup after an all-nighter in the lab, May preparing her tea before her training session. Peaceful morning moments spent in comfortable silence.

Fitz was sipping his drink without a word, studying the kitchen shelves behind May’s right ear, then focusing on the drawers next to her left shoulder - anything, to avoid looking into her eyes. His hands fidgeting with the teaspoon as he superfluously stirred the heaps of sugar in his cup betrayed his nervousness. He was clearly waiting for her to speak first, but May just sat and stared at him openly, some side of her enjoying his squirming. A small price to pay for breaking her self-imposed isolation. She could always out-silence anyone - it was one of her strength.

Fitz seemed to arrive at the same conclusion when he finally looked at her with a sigh. “You won’t ask why I am here?”

“I’m guessing it’s not for tea.” May replied drily. “We don’t have to make small-talk, Fitz. Neither of us is the type.”

“Fine.” He grimaced then pulled out a sheet of paper. May glanced at it - and her heart started to pound faster when she saw the familiar signature on the old mission report. The memories came rushing back. “What do you know about this?”

She looked at him searchingly. “Why are you looking into this, Fitz?” He clenched his jaw at the question and his hands balled into a fist, as he was trying to control their shaking.

“I met my…Alistair,” he bit the word away. He could not bring himself to call the man who caused him so much misery his father. May vetted his personal file, she knew about the abuse. “He came to me with a warning about Brand Laboratories.”

“What did he have to say?” She looked at him impassively, but she felt sick at the thought of the man whom she only knew from the Framework.

“That’s just it. He died before he could say anything.” Fitz shrugged a little.

A troubling thought flashed in her mind. “Did you kill him?”

Fitz wrinkled his brows in surprise. “What? Me? No.” He fidgeted with his mug as he recounted the story.. “It was a sniper. I’ve been trying to find any connection, but a lot of the SHIELD files perished and this is the only thing of interest I could find. Do you know something about it?”

May curled her fingers around her cup and started to talk.

 

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 

_June 1987, Glasgow_

_The weather was miserable. The rain was beating relentlessly, the sky was grey, painting the entire city with a gloomy, monochrome brush. May sighed as her umbrella seemed to be of no use with the drizzle seemingly attacking her from all directions. She pulled on her preppy pink cardigan that clung to her body uncomfortably, wishing she was dressed rather in her familiar leather garments. Finally, she spotted the black car that pulled up right next to her._

_“Ready?” Phil Coulson grinned as he opened the car door for her, checking openly out her knee-length pencil skirt, and high-heel pumps. “You do clean up nicely, Agent May.”_

_May suppressed the urge to smile back at him and instead using her most intimidating glare she said“ You’re late, Phil.”  ignoring his goofy expression._

_His mirth was unaffected as he said lightly. “Well then, let’s not waste any more time. Close your eyes, Melinda.”_

_She rolled her eyes, but played along anyways. She could hear him smile.  “There, now hold out your finger.” He chuckled when she held out her middle finger with a vicious grin. “Not that finger.”_

_His warm hand was on hers as he tugged gently on her ring finger and slid what felt like a ring on it. She opened her eyes in surprise to see his blue eyes glinting both with amusement and tenderness. “Here - my beautiful bride.”_

_She glanced down on her finger to see a shiny wedding band that matched the one on his hand. When she was briefed, they told her it was undercover, but she didn’t know they would pose as a married couple._

_“Why all the smoke and mirrors?” May shifted in her seat._

_Coulson winked at her then continued the debrief on a more serious voice. “The mission requires subtlety. SHIELD received some intel about a secret programme called Project Symposium run by Brand Corporation - tying a part of the work to Glasgow. There is a fertility clinic that seems to be connected to Brand Laboratories - I figured we’d check that out first.”_

_“Really? Undercover at a fertility clinic? Are you sure you picked the right partner to be your sweet little wife.”_

_“You know, I wouldn’t pick anyone else, Melinda.” His voice had a rasp to it that sent a tingling feeling through her body. Coulson was a huge flirt, his banter sweet, but effective. As much as she grumbled about it, she found their little game scintillating and was always looking forward to working with Coulson._

_“Just learn our cover - ETA is 10 minutes.” He shoved a folder into her hand as the car jolted forward._

 

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_The waiting room was bright and clean with colourful posters of angelic babies. “We can make your dream come true” the cheesy line advertised._

_“Eugenics?” she whispered to Coulson who sat with a fake smile plastered on his face pretending to be engrossed in a brochure. He gave an almost invisible shrug._

_A nurse came to collect them - she had perfect cheekbones and shiny blond hair. The nurses uniform was obviously designed to show off her curves rather than for comfort. “Mr and Mrs Carter?” She read from her clipboard on a sing-songy voice._

_“That’s us, honey.” Phil jumped to his feet and offered her arm to May._

_“Doctor Hirsch will see you now.” They followed the nurse to the doctor’s office who was a short, stocky man in his fifties. He went through their medical history in great detail. May mostly listened as Coulson recited the made-up background story about having tried for years for a baby without success._

_“This clinic came highly recommended to give us exactly what we hope for,” he finished looking at the doctor as if they shared a secret. Coulson was excellent at that - his easy-going nature lulled people into a sense of comfort, so they never realized when they said too much to him._

_The doctor tapped his fingers. “I certainly do hope we can live up to our reputation and that you will be most satisfied with the outcome. I suggest we jump right into some exams.”_

_May became uneasy - there was not supposed to be an examination, they were just going to sniff around a bit. “No way,” she blurted out without thinking._

_Coulson kicked her under the table and flashed a smile at the doctor. “She has always been a bit skittish about hospitals. Would you give us a minute?”_

_They stepped outside the corridor. “This has gone too far, Phil. There’s nothing to learn here.”_

_“Come on, Mel. I need a bit more time. Nobody could find anything on these guys - but you and I are the team that can crack this, I feel it. It’s unpleasant, I admit, but I’ll make it up to you. Drinks are on me tonight.” he clutched her hand._

_She pursed her lips, but nodded. They went back to the doctor’s office. “We are ready.” Coulson announced._

 

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_“Are you sure this is the place?” May asked as she looked through the night goggles at the drab industrial building that looked like a warehouse._

_“Élodie gave precise directions.” Coulson smirked._

_“Oh, so you’re on first-name basis with the Barbie doll.” May could not keep the edge out of her voice. She was suddenly acutely aware how she was the exact opposite of a Barbie doll; short, dark-haired._

_“We all have to make sacrifices to get the intel.” Coulson gave her a searching look. They sat in silence for a while, shoulder to shoulder behind a container. “Look, a truck. Maybe we’ll be in luck after all.“_

_May took the goggles from him and watched as a dozen of men, all armed to the teeth jumped out and moved silently towards the building. “Phil, that’s not a delivery, it’s a strike team.”_

_They started to run. Just as they got closer to the building, suddenly a number of blasts shook it. Coulson pushed her to the ground and sheltered her with his body as the rubble fell around them like rain. May,dazed by the shockwaves registered the warmth of his body and lifted her head just in time to see the crew get back into the truck and drive away. It moved too fast to see the licence plate, but in any case, it was surely untraceable. The fast and efficient way it happened, they were clearly dealing with a professional group._

_The floor of the building was covered my broken glass and rubble, mixed with biological material and a liquid that could only be described as goo. They found a couple of corpses, among them Doctor Hirsch and the blond nurse, Elodie. Coulson took fingerprints, while May collected some samples from the floor to be sent for analysis hoping that it would shed some light on the mysterious activity that was ended so abruptly._

_They heard the police sirens in the distance. “Time to clear out.” They ran back towards the car and sped away._

 

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

 

_May sat in the corner watching the patrons of the bar discussing local politics in an agitated voice, using colourful phrases that May guessed were not meant to flatter the city councilmen. Coulson returned with two glasses of whisky. May took a sip. It burnt her throat, but not in an unpleasant way; the amber liquid spread glowing fire around her core, calming her nerves._

_“What is this?” She raised the glass to the light._

_“HAIG. I figured after today we deserve the good stuff.” Coulson smiled._

_“Have you heard anything back from the lab?” she asked._

_Coulson sighed. “The samples were too contaminated. They could identify some amniotic fluid and embryo tissues…The fingerprints are also a dead-end - these people were ghosts.”_

_May nodded. You win some, you lose some is what they teach you first in operations. You try to move on, concentrate fully on the next move. But still, there was a detail bothering her. “Did...did they take some samples from you?”_

_Coulson grimaced. “Yeah, I try not to think about that.. On the flip side, it probably got destroyed in the blasts.”_

_“It’s a bit macabre.” She stared into her empty glass._

_“That disappeared fast.” Coulson grinned and reached for the crystal. May watched mesmerized as their hands touched. That’s when she realized they still both had the fake wedding bands on._

_“I should give this back…” she started to remove it, but Coulson shook his head._

_“It’s not real, keep it. It could come handy one day.” He got up and headed to the bar for a refill._

_May nodded and played with the ring on her finger until Coulson returned with two full glasses and a bottle. “Actually, I got a whole bottle. If we ever have a worse mission than this, we’ll drink this.”_

_May clinked her glass to his with a coy smile. “I’ll drink to that bottle to stay full for a long time.”_

Fitz listened to the story motionlessly. “So what happened after that?”

May shrugged. “SHIELD concluded that it was a clean-up operation and we were moved on to a different case. There was nothing left at the end to investigate.”

“Or it was a cover-up of something they found.” Fitz remarked drily.

May frowned. “You think someone in SHIELD buried it?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, May…” Fitz’s eyes were intense. “Did my father’s name ever come up?”

“You found a connection?”

He hesitated for a moment. “I think he was working for a security contractor at the time. The case report contains a recommendation to keep those people under surveillance, but the names are classified.”

May shook her head. “I don’t know, Fitz. It was a long time ago and I’ve never seen those lists. I was just a young agent with a low-level security clearance.”

“Do you know who Coulson reported to?” Fitz poked for a different angle.

“Blake was usually in charge of science-related ops.”

Fitz’s looked at her surprised. “You mean Felix Blake of the Watchdogs fame? Whatever happened to him, May?”

“I don’t know - he kind of disappeared after that incident with the nitramene.” Fitz instinctively touched his neck. “We could pay a visit to some of my old contacts, see if we can find him.”

Fitz shook his head. “I have to head back.”

May felt the annoyance rise inside her. “Jemma doesn’t know you’re here.” It wasn’t a question. _What was it with men and secrets?_ “Listen, Fitz. I’m still not sure I understand why you are digging into this. But I’ve been where she is, I’ve been where you are - and nothing from the past can destroy you as quickly as the secrets you keep. She’s earned the right to know.”

He stepped back and said defensively. “She’s pregnant, May. I’m only trying to protect her and the baby.” May closed her eyes. While she withdrew herself from the world, it kept spinning on. A life gone, a new life created. The thought of the baby invaded her heart - she instinctively thought of it as her own family.

“Then talk to her, Fitz. You are better when you are facing things together - never forget that.” she said, her voice softer now.

Fitz looked at her long then nodded. “OK.”

She smiled. “I’ll call you if I find something.”

“Thank you.” He said softly, scribbling a phone number on a piece of paper. Then he grabbed his rucksack and headed towards the door.

“Fitz, wait.” she called after him. “Coulson wanted you to have this. He never doubted Jemma would find you. And I’m glad she did.”  She gave him a small package.

“Thanks.” He bounced on his feet awkwardly, his lips moving silently, visibly struggling to figure out what to say. He finally lifted his gaze at her. “It was good to see you, May. And don’t forget, we all care about you… when you are ready.”

She smiled. “I know, Fitz. Tell Jemma I’m happy for her. I’m happy for both of you.”

As the door closed behind him, May looked at Coulson’s smiling photo. “What do you think, Phil? Time to go back?” He stared back at her with that gentle expression he always wore when they were alone. May recalled as they giggled on the beach, having had perhaps a drink too much. _Don’t be alone, Melinda. We’ve built a family - they need you and you need them._

She opened a wooden jewellery box and took out the simple wedding band he gave her all those years ago. She closed her eyes and slipped it on her fingers. _My beautiful bride..._

 

**Fitz**

 

Fitz took out his cell phone and pressed the only number on speed dial.

“Fitz, where are you?” Jemma’s voice was a mixture of reproach and relief. “I called the company and they said you left the site yesterday morning.”

“I’m sorry, Jemma. I’ve been on planes. I’m in Canada.” he replied softly.

“What’s in Canada?” She wondered clearly confused.

“May. And - look, we have to talk. I have something to tell you. It may be nothing, but I don’t want to talk about it on the phone.” He tried to explain, expecting a barrage of questions. Instead there was a pause on the other end.

She sighed. “OK. I also have something to tell you, Fitz.” Her voice was grave and Fitz was hit by a wave of worry. “Is the baby…?”

She cut him off. “We’re fine. Just come home, Fitz.”

“Love you, Jemma.”

“Love you too. Have a good trip. Call me when you land.”

Fitz hang up the phone feeling relieved. He took out the small package May gave her and slowly tore open the envelope.He pulled out the postcard he left with Robin before he got in the CryoFreeze chamber and a limited 1978 SHIELD-edition spy-watch from Coulson’s personal collection he once repaired for him. There also found a letter.

_Fitz,_

_I’m so glad you made it back. I wish we could have done this in person, but I guess we are stuck with sending messages to each other across time. I’ve got yours and I can only hope you’ll get mine._

_Not because I have anything profound to say. But maybe I can tell you this as one dead man to another: second chances are rare. I’ve spent mine worrying entirely too much about the “why”, and far too little pondering the “what”.  Don’t make the same mistake._

_It’s been an honour to work with you, to watch you grow. You have not only an exceptional mind, but also an exceptional heart. Trust it. I’m proud of the journey you have made and glad to have been a part of it._

_Philip J. Coulson_

_PS 1: That’s the last bit of my collection, and I know you will take excellent care of it._

_PS 2: It was NOT your fault. I know you tend to blame yourself. Don’t. It was my choice and would do the same again._

Fitz stared at the familiar writing, almost hearing Coulson’s voice in his head. A teardrop fell and smudged the ink. He hadn’t realized that he was crying.


	5. Deke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deke gets involved. Surely nothing can go wrong?

**Deke**

 

_Did you know, Daisy, that this city was built on 11 million wooden poles?  I mean makes you wonder why bother at that point? Couldn’t they just have tried to build it on more solid ground?_

_So… I tried riding a bicycle today for the first time in my life. All these people made it look so easy, but actually it’s pretty hard and scary. I almost fell into one of the 165 canals. I’m not sure which._

_Still, I think you might like it here - the pancakes are pretty awesome. Sweet and sticky. My kind of pancakes._

_Anyways, that’s all for today. Here is LemonBoy on top of a bicycle (somehow even he’s better than me at this…)_

_Until next time,_

 

_Deke_

 

He attached the picture and pressed send. Deke loved getting lost in cities all over the world and just watching people go by. It made it feel somehow both more and less real that he was from a future where none of this existed. All these beautiful buildings, all the people, animals, plants erased. Thousands of years of history just gone poof one day.

 

It was a good feeling that now all of this was back somehow and that he played a part in it - even if it was just a small part and even if nobody knew what fate awaited them.

 

He sat on the bank of the canal, and dangled his feet above the water wondering where to go next. Two young guys stopped next to him one with a strange moustache and another in a rainbow-fish T-shirt.

“Man, if you are interested I can point you to the best space cake in town…” said moustache-man.

Deke perked up at that. “Space cake? You mean like a Sitherian borwarts cream pie? I tried that once, it wasn’t half bad, though the way they put the gremgrot jellies on top makes it look a bit gross. The pancakes here are way, way better - have you tried it with the caramel syrup....”

The two guys looked at him with a bewildered expression. Rainbow fish guy poked his companion, “Let’s go, this dude is high enough as it is.” Deke watched as they hurried away. Sometimes people reacted to him weirdly, he was used to it by now.

He jumped when the phone rang and almost dropped it in the canal in his surprise.

“Yeah?” he breathed into the phone.

“It’s Jemma, Deke. Where are you?” He shuddered a bit hearing her voice, it sounded so much like his mother. It conjured memories of bedtime stories and it made him want to smile and cry at the same time.

“In Amsterdam. Did you know that they built it on 11 million wooden poles?”

“Good. No, I don’t think I knew that.” He could hear it in her voice that she was smiling. There was a moment of silence. “Deke, I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything for my favourite Nana - I’ll fit it into my busy schedule,” replied Deke lightly.

Jemma sighed and her voice was grave. “Well, go to the train station. I sent you a ticket. I’ll pick you up in London.”

“I’m going to England? But why?” Deke wondered.

“I need your blood.”

“That sounds a bit macabre.” Deke had been learning words from the thesaurus app Daisy put on his phone and was glad he got to use one of his new vocabulary.

“It’s not dangerous. I’ll explain when you get here. See you in a few hours.” She hung up the phone. Deke stared at the screen and sure enough the email with his ticket was already there. Jemma was efficient as always. Still, this was weird. Ever since they left SHIELD, he only had sporadic contact with his grandparents, even though Jemma footed the bill of his walkabout. It must have been something important.

 

-0-

 

“Ouch,” yelped Deke as the needle sank into his arms.

“Don’t be a baby about, it’s just a tiny little pinch,” Jemma scolded him gently.

“So this is where you work now?” Deke looked around in the huge lab with nondescript white walls, metallic shelves, all tidy and neat.  It was empty on the weekend except for the two of them.

“Yes, it’s really quite nice.” Jemma nodded, though her voice was without much conviction.

“You don’t miss your SHIELD lab?” Deke prodded.

“Sometimes. But I’d rather not look back.” Her voice was almost cheerful, but the sadness in her eyes betrayed her.

“You know they miss you too.” Deke said quietly.

“Really? How do you know?”

“I’m in touch with Daisy.”

“Oh.” Jemma looked at him rather surprised and then opened her mouth like she was about to ask something else. But then closed it again.  “Let me see that.” She pulled out the needle and took the vial of blood over to the counter. Deke watched as she prepared the sample and put it under the microscope.

“Will you tell me what this is about?” asked Deke. 

“Fitz will be back later tonight, then we’ll talk.” Jemma said while adjusting her microscope. She wrinkled her forehead. “This makes no sense...” She muttered to herself noting down the results into her computer then turned to Deke. He peered over her shoulders onto the screen, but the squiggly lines meant nothing. After some furious typing, she closed down her laptop.  “Let’s go, we’ll be late.”

  


-0-

 

As someone who just recently started to experienc the whole driving on the road thing, driving on the other side of the road was really, really disturbing. “Watch out!” yelled Deke, but when Jemma remained completely calm, he continued his story. “...and the monkey landed on the top of my head…”

She shook her head slightly. “I don’t know what it is with you and Fitz and monkeys…”

“Fitz has a thing for monkeys? You know I could have pegged him more for a grumpy rhino kind of…” Deke trailed off suddenly. Was it possible to recognize something that you only ever saw in your mind?

“What is it?” Jemma looked at him.

“A gate with swans, a driveway lined by chestnut trees, and a small pond…” he recited. He was back in the Lighthouse, just a small kid tucked under a tattered blanket, clutching a faded ragdoll. He saw his mum’s smile, her eyes sparkling as he told him about the place where they would go once the nightmare was over. He could almost feel her soft curly hair brushing against his face. “My mom used to tell stories about this place. It was our secret dream place. I didn’t realize… that it was an actual place.”

“I grew up here.” Jemma whispered. They never much talked about Deke’s mother - she was a future irreversibly lost now - a pain of losing someone you never knew perhaps outside of a dream. It must be like a piece of your heart lost in a parallel universe, out of reach forever. In the short time of knowing her, Deke learnt that Jemma preferred to keep such broken fragments of her heart under tight lock.

When the car stopped, Deke got out and looked around in the luscious garden, the colours softening in the late afternoon light. “It’s enormous. I didn’t know you grew up in a palace.”

“It’s more like a country house. It’s my parents’ place actually,” she replied. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

Deke stopped looking at her suddenly nervously. “Wait, I’m going to meet my great-grandparents?”

“Deke, obviously they don’t know. They _can’t_ know, ok?” Jemma lead him to a room with flower-patterned wallpaper and matching curtains. Deke plopped down on the large bed immediately.

“Are you sure this is not a palace?” he grinned at Jemma.

“Why don’t you freshen up? Dinner will be ready soon.” She left the room. Deke pulled out his phone and took a picture of the garden. _You won’t believe where I am…_ He started to type a message to Daisy but paused halfway wondering if Jemma would be upset if he divulged this information. Things were still kind of weird between them, not like the close friends they had been when Deke met them.

He looked at the photo and whispered. “Mom, you won’t believe where I am…”

 

-0-

 

The dining room was intimidating. Not even Kasius owned such a huge table, not to speak of the giant crystal thingy that hang from the high ceiling. It was set with more plates, cups and utensils than any sensible person needed for eating their dinners. Deke gave a sidelong glance at Jemma who smiled back at him encouragingly and introduced him to her parents.

Mrs Simmons was a small, thin woman with bony fingers and a nervous smile. She was dressed in an elaborate purple dress. Jemma’s dad was tall with a receding hairline and a stern face. His shrewd eyes looked at Deke somewhat puzzled as he shook his hand firmly.

“Mr Shaw. Any friend of Jemma is welcome.” He smiled politely, if not too warmly and handed Deke a tall glass of bubbly liquid..

“Leopold hasn’t arrived yet?” Mrs Simmons asked.

 _Leopold?_ Deke coughed trying to hide the fact that he almost snorted the bubbly drink through his nose.

“Mum, don’t call him that. I told you he hates it.” Jemma sat down at the table. “He texted me to say he’ll be a bit late.”

“Well, I just find it odd darling that you call him by his family name.” Her mother pursed her lips. In that moment she looked like an older Jemma.

“We’ve had this discussion.” Jemma retorted.

“Very well, have it your way, Jemma. Let’s start dinner then.” She called out to the kitchen and a woman dressed in uniform brought in the food. Great. His great-grandparents not only lived in a palace, but also had servants. Deke looked with suspicion at the tiny puffy things on his plate and fervently hoped that more food would be served.

“Excellent canapés, dear.” Mr Simmons remarked.

Jemma’s mother turned to Deke. “So, Mr Shaw, are you also a scientist?”

Deke shook his head. “Me? No… I’m… I travel…and take pictures…”

“Travel photography. How fascinating. Anything you could show us?” enthused Mrs Simmons.

Jemma quickly intervened. “Maybe later, mum.”

“And how did you meet Jemma?”

“I… we have worked together.” Deke said, somewhat truthfully. Learning to lie was an essential skill in the Lighthouse, and the best lies were hidden in truths. He got saved from divulging more details by the arrival of the next course.

It was some kind of bright yellow soup. It looked suspicious, but when Deke tried it, it tasted quite fine.

“You’re hardly eating, Jemma. I asked Mrs Jones to make your favourite.”

“It’s lovely mum,” smiled Jemma and grimaced as she forced a small spoonful of the liquid down her throat.

“So you were a SHIELD agent as well, Mr Shaw?” Jemma’s mother continued with the questioning.

“Not quite.” Deke shook his head.

“More like a freelancer,” added Jemma quickly.

“And have you known each other for a long time?” Deke and Jemma looked at each other bewildered.

“Feels like a lifetime.” Deke smiled. “We just met recently, really.” Jemma said at the same time, her face turning pink. She was a totally useless liar. _She wouldn’t have lasted long at the Lighthouse_ … Deke caught himself before he finished that thought.

“How interesting.” Mrs Simmons looked at them with some confusion. The bell rang and Jemma jumped up eagerly.

“Must be Fitz.”

Indeed, Fitz appeared in the doorway with a backpack flung over his shoulders. “I’m sorry, the traffic was awful…” he started, but trailed off when he saw Deke. His eyebrows arched in question, then he gave a tiny shrug and went over to kiss Jemma on the top of her head.

“Sit down, we’ve just started,” said Mr Simmons. Fitz sat down next to Jemma, across from Deke, still looking sceptical.

The next dish was some kind of sea creature covered in shells. Deke tried to break the shell with his hands, when he felt a kick under the table. He lifted his eyes to see Fitz glaring at him and making a show of picking up the appropriate utensil. Deke copied his movements dutifully.

“So how is the business going, Fitz?” Mr Simmons asked.

“Very well. The pilot project is a success. The tidal wave system is working as intended.” Fitz replied.

“Even then. Roxxon has acquired a new science company. They even have an energy division. Have you heard of B-Tech?” Fitz just shook his head at the question of his father-in-law. “If you ever change your mind, I could put in a word with the board…”

“Thank you. But I’m a scientist. I have no interest in business management.” Fitz’s voice was polite but firm.

Jemma’s father was about to reply, when the roast arrived. Deke sighed in relief. Finally there was something on his plate he recognized.

 

-0-

 

“What is he doing here?” Fitz asked once the dinner finally came to an end and they retired into Jemma’s room.

Jemma put a hand on Fitz’s arm. “I asked Deke to come. I found something, Fitz.” She pulled out her laptop and put it in front of Fitz.

“What am I looking at?” he asked.

“Gene maps. This is from…” Jemma closed her eyes, struggling for words. “...tissue of the previous fetus,” she finally settled on the scientific terms. Cold, precise, detached. Deke was fairly certain he remembered what that word meant.

Fitz looked at her taken aback.

“How did you get this?” he hissed.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jemma said. Instead she launched into an explanation.  “But look. Here and here. The gene sequence doesn’t make sense and these macromolecules here?”

“Like inhumans?” asked Fitz.

“That’s what I thought, first.” she nodded. “Even though, it’s not quite like the inhumans. I don’t know what this is, or who put it there, but those molecules are not from this Earth.”

“Another Kree experiment? Genetic editing?” Fitz asked and Deke was lost. They were off in their little Fitz and Jemma space, sputtering science words at lightning speed that only they could understand. In these moments, Deke felt more than a little inadequate.

“Maybe,” she did not sound convinced either way.

“So you wanted a control subject to decide is someone is doing it…”

“Exactly. So I checked Deke, expecting to find nothing. Instead, it’s there Fitz. The same changes in the sequence. The same molecules of unknown origin.”

“Do we know what it does?”

“No, until we figure out what it is, we won’t know what it does. But Deke, you’ve been through the myst, haven’t you?”

Deke nodded.

Fitz looked confused. “The myst?” It was too easy to forget that this Fitz was not that Fitz, he had no first-hand experience or recollection of the Lighthouse.

“The Kreepers were trying to breed inhumans and make sure everyone with the right genetic makeup turned. They triggered the process for all the 18-years old, to see what shakes loose. But I had no powers.” Deke explained.

“So we don’t know what it does. But unless someone hopped over to a parallel timeline to edit Deke’s genes, I think we can exclude meddling at the level of the fetus. It’s us.” Fitz sounded on edge.

“Yes, that would be logical.” Jemma agreed. “Except…I cross-checked our samples and neither you or me have the same sequence.”

“Did you double-check the sample?”

“Of course, it’s me Fitz.”

“And the seal?”

“Yes.” Jemma now sounded really annoyed. “I made up all those rules.”

“OK.” Fitz backed down, scratching his beard. “It’s probably me.”

“Why?” Jemma asked sharply.

Fitz sighed. “Well, something happened in Scotland. My father came to see me…”

“You father? How did that little...even…” Jemma snapped.

“He was shot, Jemma. Right in front of me. Whatever he wanted to say - well,...obviously it was important enough to kill for.”

“Fitz...that’s….” She looked horrified at first.  “Are you ok?”

“Fine.” His face was troubled and it looked the opposite of fine, but he clearly was not ready to elaborate. Instead he told them the entire story of the connection to Brands Laboratories, the Glasgow mission of Coulson and May. Deke and Jemma listened in stunned silence.

“So it’s all connected.” Jemma muttered.

“So let me get this straight. You think all your descendants have been the subject of some weird alien experiment. Except we don’t know what it does? And my other great-grandfather was a thug?” Deke hoped he misunderstood the science mumbo-jumbo. The thought of being the result of some kind of freaky experiment which on top of it did not even give him superpowers sounded way too freakish.

“Unclear.” Fitz said.

“We’ll figure it out, Fitz” Jemma added hopefully, as always. “Maybe your mother has some more answers.”

“You’re right. I promised her a visit anyways.” Fitz agreed. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

“Yay. I’ll get to meet even more family and provide awkward explanations.” Deke noted unenthusiastically.

“She makes the best breakfast pancakes.” Jemma chimed in..

Fitz smiled a genuine smile for once. “She really does. I think you’ll like her.”

Deke grinned back at them. “Well, who doesn’t like pancakes? I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry, this update took ages, but here we are finally.


End file.
